Antarctica

Below the 60th parallel is a land of ice and water, fog and sea. It is a land of contrast - it is the driest continent, yet holds 90 % of the earth's water. There are no indigenous land mammals here, yet fossils prove that once marsupials lived here. It is a brutally hostile environment yet supports an amazingly fragile ecosystem. Time and space work differently down here. A 360 degree perspective means that distance cannot be comprehended. Although it is incredibly remote, even here plastic garbage has found its way into the digestive system of the krill, eaten by seabirds, fish, sea mammals, and eventually, you.

Antarctica is owned by no country, and is protected by the International Antarctic Treaty. We are all guardians of this special place.

We crossed Drake's Passage in a rolling sea of 18-25 foot waves. Many on board were seasick, yet we know that when Sir Ernest Shackleton left half his men on Elephant Island, he and a small crew of 6 sailors made their way to eventual rescue in a 22-foot craft in 45 foot waves. How his men survived 5 months on a barren ice-covered rock is pretty much beyond comprehension. They used their lifeboats as primitive shelters, and ate penguins and seals. Long before the days of thermal synthetic fabrics, these men were clothed in wool, heavy, wet, and cold.

We approached Deception Island, covered in fog, and sighted large icebergs. Hard to say how far they were from the ship, as the uniform light of sea, air, and land makes distance difficult to gauge. Nevertheless, they seemed immense.
The weather was high winds, fog, greyness, too much ice in the passages, and we were unable to follow our planned itinerary of Paradise Bay and Half Moon Island, but instead made our way directly to Elephant Island. It does not look like an elephant, but was so called because of it's size and height. It is basically a rock rising sheerly out of the water. Shackleton's men lived on a narrow sliver of rocky beach.

If you want a lesson in leadership, Ernest Shackleton is a prime example. He directed his men in such a way that each felt needed, worthy, necessary. When he left most of his crew on Elephant Island, he took with him, in a small boat, the troublemakers of his crew, so that he could keep an eye on them and they would not disrupt the harmony of the camp. He succeeded in reaching the whaling station on South Georgia Island, a distance of 729 miles. Every single one of his men survived.

As we left the Antarctic region, we could not see 10 feet in front of the boat. A heavy fog surrounded us, and our horn boomed out every minute in a lonely call to whatever might be out there. I leave with tremendous admiration for all who have actually set foot on the continent, made their way across it, survived, or not. It is magnificent.